


Two Worlds Colliding

by Featherbelle



Category: Criminal Minds, X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-09 16:04:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1989171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Featherbelle/pseuds/Featherbelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Logan takes a friend on a trip during her vacation to help her unwind. Discoveries are made. Then all hell breaks loose...and the Wolverine goes hunting. AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Logan and Wolverine aren't mine. Damn. Rhiannon and her mother, however...came out of my demented little mind. 
> 
> Feedback: would be lovely! Flames will be met with the business end of Mr. Howlett's shiny claws. 
> 
> AN: I had the general idea for this original character for some time, but only recently got her fleshed out enough to really start writing. And I have to say I have been inspired by lachlanrose's work (Shine Against Me in particular) as well as dr_girlfriend's The Taming. If you have not read any of those, seriously...go read. NOW. *shoos you over to read Shine Against Me and The Taming*. This is AU...Jean, Scott and Charles are NOT dead... nope, no way no how... not listening to any of those lies. *lalalalalaICan'tHearYou* Timeline-wise, except for the deaths that are not deaths...probably post X3, although issues have cropped up for me after watching DoFP. Those will likely be dealt with in a second piece or sequel of some kind. There are plot bunnies knocking at my door to help with that, thankfully!

**Two Worlds Colliding**

 

_Nineteen year old Rhiannon Evans sat in the hollow space beneath the stairs, quietly watching as Logan returned from one of his many solo missions he’d been sent on by the Professor. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched him move, the combination of animalistic grace and devil-may-care attitude a heady draught. Footsteps directly over her head caused Logan’s head to snap up and to the right.  Rhiannon sighed. She didn’t need psychic abilities to know her Aunt Jean was the one coming down the stairs. At that moment, she wished she had Kitty’s phasing ability so she could leave her hiding place without Logan seeing her. Rhi knew Jean knew she was there; kind of hard to hide from a psychic, particularly one as powerful as her Aunt. She wished that, just for one moment, Logan would look at her the way he looked at Jean._


	2. Vacations are supposed to be fun

Rhiannon sat in the hollow space beneath the stairs, a favorite hiding spot of hers, quietly watching as Logan returned from one of his rather infrequent wanderings. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched him move, the combination of animalistic grace and devil-may-care attitude a heady and very welcome draught, no matter that she was a thirty-five year old FBI agent now. Footsteps directly over her head sounded, and Logan’s head snapped up. Rhiannon sighed. She _still_ didn’t need psychic abilities or even her FBI profiler’s training to know her Aunt Jean was the one coming down the stairs. At that moment, she once again wished she had Kitty’s phasing ability so she could leave her hiding place without Logan seeing her. Not that it would really do any good, given Logan’s feral senses. Rhi knew Jean knew she was there; kind of hard to hide from a psychic, particularly one as powerful as her Aunt. She also figured Logan knew she was there too. She lost count of how many times she’d sat in this very spot, waiting and watching for Logan to come home, thinking many of these very same thoughts. _Rhi_? Jean called to her telepathically. Sixteen years changed nothing. Outside these walls, she was a member of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, an elite law enforcement team. Inside the mansion, she always felt as though she were still a teenager. _Except_ with Logan. _Never_ with Logan.

Overhead, Jean called out to Logan. “Logan, I can’t find Rhiannon anywhere. I hesitate to track her psychically, because she’s been upset lately. She could just be off on her own, coping with whatever it is in her own way. And I don’t want to bother the Professor just yet.”

“But you’re worried,” Logan replied, smiling at her. “I’ll find her, Jean.” He sniffed the air pointedly.

“Thank you, Logan,” Jean said, then turned around and went back upstairs. As soon as Jean was gone, Logan strode to Rhi’s hiding spot. “She’s gone. You can come out now,” he said just before he came into sight. “What if I don’t want to?” she asked morosely.

“Then move over, Princess Witch, and I’ll sit with you,” Logan said, dropping to the floor to do just that. Once she made room for him, the feral mutant put his right arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side. “Work getting to you that bad? You’ve been moping for the last two days. You’re home on vacation. Aren’t vacations supposed to be fun?” he asked.

“Yeah, I guess, but I’m not in the mood for fun right now,” she replied. “Logan, why do you call me that?”

“What?” he asked, stroking her hair with his hand in an attempt to get her to relax.

“Princess Witch. Odd sounding nickname, isn’t it?”

Logan snorted. “Not for someone named Rhiannon it isn’t,” he replied. “ _She is like a cat in the dark and then she is the darkness_ ,” Logan sang softly. “Just don’t marry some guy named Pwyll,” he muttered with a growl.

Rhiannon sat bolt upright, smacking her head on the underside of the stairs. “Ow. You know the legend of Rhiannon?”

“Yeah. And I like the song, too. But if you ever tell anyone…” Logan glowered at her as he hauled her out of the small space, intent on looking at her head.

“Yeah yeah…I get it. You and your little dog too.” She pantomimed zipping her lips. Logan inspected the top of her head, grinning to himself when he heard her heart rate increase at his touch. He kissed the spot she’d hit, his grin widening even more at the sound of her heart.

He grabbed her hand. “Come on. We’re getting out of here. You need to quit moping. Vacations are supposed to be fun, and you need some fun to balance out the gruesome stuff you see at work. Go upstairs and pack a bag. Casual stuff. We leave in an hour.”

She headed up the stairs, but stopped halfway. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” he told her. “Oh, and you had better tell someone that you’re with me. Jean’s already worried about you.”

Rhiannon resumed her course up the stairs and to her room, smiling like an idiot the whole way. In her room, she grabbed the largest backpack she owned and threw in two pair of jeans, two sets of underwear, two t-shirts, two flannel shirts, two sets of pajamas, a pair of sneakers, and her toothbrush and toothpaste. In the outside pocket, she stuffed her point-and-shoot digital camera and a few memory cards, her phone and the chargers for both devices. She wasn’t going to be out of communication in case something happened that Logan couldn’t handle. She couldn’t imagine what might happen that Logan wouldn’t be able to deal with, but at least if she had her phone, she could call her Uncle Charles and the other X-Men for help if she had to.

Hefting the bag onto her shoulder, she snagged her favorite leather jacket off the hook on the back of the door. It was a lot like the jacket Logan usually wore except black where Logan’s was brown and had red stripes where Logan’s sported tan ones. Not being sure of where Logan was taking her, she figured it was a safe bet bringing a jacket. Before she closed the door, she took one last look around her room to make sure she didn’t need anything else. Although knowing Logan as she did, she was fairly certain their transportation would be his motorcycle, and you couldn’t take much on the back of a Harley. At the last minute, she decided to take her backup weapon, the one she usually kept on her at all times. A Colt 1911 A1 nickel-plated .45 caliber handgun, it was a beauty. She shoved a couple boxes of the ammo and a shoulder holster for it in the bottom of the backpack. Rhiannon thought it didn’t hurt to have it along in case they ran into any mutant-hating humans while they were out and about.

She was startled out of her last minute ruminations by the cheerful voices of three of her friends, the mutants Rogue, Jubilee and Kitty. “You can’t leave…you just got here,” Jubilee complained. “Yeah, we haven’t had a girls’ night yet,” Rogue chimed in. “If you leave, I’ll just come get you and drag you back,” Kitty threatened.

She laughed. “Don’t worry. We’ll get our girls’ night. I just need an attitude adjustment first is all.”

Loud footsteps behind the women made Rhiannon turn around. Logan came bounding up the stairs two at a time. He cocked an eyebrow at her. “You ready, Princess?”

“Yeah, I guess so. Can we swing by the office first though? Mom should still be here. I want to let her know you’re kidnapping me,” she said.

“Some attitude adjustment,” Jubilee snorted.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Rogue grinned as Logan took Rhiannon by the arm and led her down the stairs.

Rhiannon paused and glanced back up at her friend. “Well, damn, Marie, given your mutation, I guess that means I’m screwed,” she replied with a wink, and all four women burst into laughter.

Logan grabbed her arm and hustled her down the stairs. “I better get you out of here before those three make any more jokes at my expense.”

“Oh come on, Logan. I’m being whisked away by the school’s resident motorcycle riding, cigar smoking, leather jacket wearing handsome bad boy for who knows how long. What do you expect them to say?” she retorted, rolling her eyes.

He smirked at her. “You think I’m handsome, do you?”

She snatched her arm out of his grasp and stalked down the hall to the administrative section of the mansion, where her mother worked as clerical administrator. She let herself into her mother’s office, grumbling under her breath as she shut the door.

Her mother was busily typing away, probably some science class notes of some sort for one of the Professor’s physics classes, or perhaps dictations for Dr. McCoy. Sorcha Evans didn’t even look up from her computer screen. “How is Logan today?”

Her daughter laughed. “Exasperating, as always. I just dropped by to tell you Logan is dragging me kicking and screaming out of the funk I’ve been in. He’s taking me on a trip. He says vacations are supposed to be fun.”

“Do you have any idea where you’re going?” Sorcha asked her daughter.

“Not yet, he says it’s a surprise. But,” she brandished her backpack, “he said pack casual, and knowing him, we’re leaving on his Harley, so I packed light.” Dropping the backpack to the floor, she ran over to her mother’s desk and hugged the older woman tightly. “I am taking my phone, so I can call if I need to. When we get to where we’re going I’ll let you know.”

Her mother returned the embrace, saying as she did, “You should let Charles know you’re leaving. He was looking forward to seeing you while you were here.”

“If you’re sure. I don’t want to bother the Professor. And I don’t think we’ll be gone that long.”

Giving her daughter a look, Sorcha hit the intercom on her desk. “Yes?” Charles Xavier’s strong authoritative voice replied. “Charles, Rhiannon is leaving on a short trip with Logan and wanted to speak to you before they head out.”

Instead of replying verbally, Charles spoke to Rhiannon telepathically. _I’d enjoy that very much, Rhiannon._

She let herself into the Professor’s office and he wheeled himself out from behind his desk to greet her. He held his arms out and she walked over to him, knelt in front of his chair and relaxed into his embrace. “Thanks, Uncle Charles. I needed that.”

“You know I don’t mean to pry, but some of your thoughts about work recently are rather hard to ignore. Perhaps this outing with Logan will chase some of those demons away,” Charles said thoughtfully.

“And if that doesn’t work, I’ll do it myself, the old fashioned way,” Logan said from where he stood in the doorway behind Rhiannon, the telltale sound of Logan’s adamantium claws unsheathing sounding quite loud in Charles’s normally peaceful office. Charles didn’t say anything, but as his two students turned to go, Rhiannon heard in her mind, _Logan cares very much for you, you know._

_It goes beyond caring for me, Uncle Charles. Far beyond._

_Perhaps Logan needs this trip as much as you do._

Logan escorted Rhiannon outside, where his Harley Davidson motorcycle stood waiting, the black leather shining and the silver metal gleaming, as if Logan had just finished polishing it. He gestured theatrically. “Your chariot awaits, Princess.”

She handed her bag to him and waited while he stowed it in one of the saddlebags. He tossed her a motorcycle helmet. “Put this on. I heal fast. You don’t.” She sensibly did as he asked. Then after he sat down and started the classic beast’s engine, she sat down behind him, reveling in the opportunity to put her arms around him. “You ready?” he yelled at her over the roar of the engine. “Let’s ride!” she replied happily in a normal tone of voice, knowing Logan would hear her. They rumbled down the driveway and out of the mansion’s gates without a care in the world.


	3. Arrival at the Cottage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan and Rhiannon arrive at their destination and get settled in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if this one seems a bit short, but the next part can NOT be cut up, and I thought I would post something since, according to the stats, I have a reader or two. Whoever you are, thanks very much for reading. :)

After only twenty minutes or so of circuitous riding that almost made Rhiannon dizzy from all the turns they’d had to make, Logan turned again off the main road onto another road, and she saw an ornate wooden sign that proclaimed they were entering a state park. She shook her head in wonder, thinking that she was a moron. She’d all but grown up in the Westchester area, and had forgotten that this beautiful park was so close to the school. She vaguely recalled coming here on a field trip for one of her classes in ninth grade, but that was the only memory she had of the place. 

Logan soon pulled up in front of a small cottage and cut the engine. “Here we are.”

Rhiannon released her hold on Logan with some reluctance. But as soon as she walked around to the rear of the cottage and saw the view they would be graced with, she forgot her minor melancholy over not being able to touch Logan for hours on end. She heard a door slam behind her and Logan’s footsteps. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked her.

“Yeah,” she replied, gazing out at the crystal blue lake wistfully.

“I put your bag inside,” Logan told her, resting his hands on her shoulders.

“What about your stuff? Didn’t you bring anything?” she asked.

He chuckled. “I already brought down a few things. I had been planning to come here for a while.”

Rhiannon turned around, somehow managing not to dislodge Logan’s hands from her shoulders. “Oh, Logan, I don’t want to disturb  _your_ vacation,” she said, frowning.

He gazed down at her thoughtfully. “Now you listen here, missy. You aren’t disturbing anything. I brought you here because you need to relax and this is a great place for that. Besides,” he said, giving her one of his rare smiles, “I like spending time with you."

The Professor’s earlier words echoed in her mind.  _Logan cares for you very much, you know._ The thing was,  _how_ did he care? Did he think of her as a kid sister, like he did Rogue, Jubilee and Kitty? Or was it something else? She wished now that she’d had the time to ask the Professor what he’d meant by that, but Logan had swept her out of the office before she’d had the chance. She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Well then, what can we do, since you know this place better than me?”

“Well, there are hiking trails, we can fish, take a rowboat out on the lake. I brought lots of marshmallows too…we can build a campfire later tonight, if you want,” Logan replied.

She grinned. “And tell spooky stories?”

Logan shook his head at her. “Don’t you get enough of that with what you do for a living?”

“I’ll take a ghost or a spooky critter any day over some of the monsters my unit hunts,” she said, then shoved him in the chest. “I thought you said you wanted me to have fun! Why are you bringing up the BAU?”

“I talked to the Professor myself before we left. He said your last few cases have really bothered you, and he suggested I listen if you wanted to talk about it, but not to  _push_ you to talk. You know I’m always there for you, Princess, so if you want to get a few things off your chest, you let me know,” he said, pulling her close for a hug.

Rhiannon savored being this close to Logan. She loved him so much, but she was terrified. The Professor had hinted that perhaps Logan had similar feelings for her, but what if he was wrong? She hoped that spending this time with him might shed some light on this issue for her. Mentally crossing her fingers, she stepped out of his arms and said brightly, “Okay, hotshot, let’s go fish for our supper and then have those marshmallows. What do you say?”

Logan grinned devilishly at her. “Sure. We can play Twenty Questions too.”

She groaned. “Really, Logan? Do I look like a kid to you?”  

He let his gaze travel slowly over her petite frame, then his warm hazel eyes locked with her bright green ones. “Oh, trust me, this is a special version.” He leaned into her personal space once more, mouth next to her ear. “I haven’t thought of you as a ‘kid’ in fifteen years,” he growled before turning around and heading inside.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner, Twenty Questions, and a little Dirty Dancing...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies if anyone finds this chap a bit long but I couldn't break it up. To me it just didn't flow right otherwise. Enjoy the read!

Logan felt off-kilter. He wasn’t sure he liked the feeling. He knew Rhiannon was the cause, and if it were anyone but her… 

It had taken him quite some time to get over his feelings for Jean, and once he had, it seemed his attention had strayed more often than not to Rhiannon. At first he’d tried to ignore his feelings for her, out of respect for her mother and the Professor, given that she was barely twenty-one when he’d first noticed her _that way_. So he’d settled for just being a good friend to her, knowing he could never be more. But when he’d stopped by to see Charles, the Professor had told him something that was the verbal equivalent of an electric shock: _Rhiannon is in love with you, Logan. Her work has been difficult lately. Be gentle with her._ And Rhiannon’s mother had said something similar: _My daughter loves you more than life itself, Logan. If you hurt her, I will cut your heart out and make you eat it._ Had they, each in their own way, been trying to tell him something? Well, he supposed there was only one way to find out.

Logan smiled to himself as he gathered the fishing supplies. He had a few ideas he wanted to implement for the day. He wasn’t much for subtlety, but at the same time he didn’t want to scare his Princess away. _His_. He shook his head. When did he start thinking of her like that? Well…Logan whistled as he carried the supplies down to the boat dock. If he had his way, she would be.

Rhiannon skittered past him, into the cottage, presumably to change for the fishing trip. A downright wicked idea occurred to him, and the Wolverine inside him growled at the thought. _Easy, boy, easy…we don’t want to frighten her away, remember?_ Rhiannon joined him a few minutes later, nothing changed except her footwear. She wore none. At his raised brow, she said, “I only brought boots and sneakers. If they get wet, they’re likely ruined.” “So, I’ll take you shopping for new ones,” he said, baiting their hooks.

They sat next to each other companionably for the next couple of hours, only keeping fish of a decent enough size to eat for dinner. After they had caught enough fish, Logan suggested they take the rowboat out for a spin. Rhiannon thought that would be fun, so Logan took the bucket of fish up to the porch, then came back and helped her get the rowboat out.

By then, the sun had begun to set, splashing the sky with pinks and purples and making beautiful reflections in the water. “Darn, I wish I had my camera,” Rhiannon complained. Logan, busy drinking in the sight of her, absentmindedly muttered, “Me, too,” in an uncharacteristically soft voice. Rhiannon looked at him like he had sprouted an extra head. “You been drinking, Logan?” she asked. “Not yet, no. Why?” he asked. Blushing, she muttered, “Never mind,” and turned her gaze back to the dark pastel sky.

Something was bothering her, and Logan had a pretty good idea what. He decided to be a little playful with her, hoping it wouldn’t backfire on him. He began rocking slowly from side to side, making the small boat lurch back and forth. “Logan, what are you doing?” Rhiannon asked sharply, her eyes wide. He smirked at her. “You’ll see.” He picked up speed until without warning, Rhiannon fell over the side with a sharp screech that was probably heard all over the park. “ _Logan!”_  Chuckling to himself, he leaned over and hauled her back into the rowboat. “What in hell did you do that for?” she grumbled. He turned her face towards him with the tips of his fingers. “This,” he whispered, and leaning forward, gently brushed her lips with his. He threaded his fingers into her wet hair and pulled her closer to him. The animal in him growled with satisfaction as his enhanced hearing picked up her quickened heartbeat. He slid his arms around her slender frame, increased the pressure of his mouth on hers, but that was it. He didn’t try anything else, even though his animalistic side was trying to goad him into it. The last thing he wanted was to frighten her away. He had a feeling if he was patient enough, he’d get what he wanted in the end.

Easing gently away from her, Logan picked up the oars and got them back to shore quickly. Now that the sun was almost gone, it had gotten cooler, and he wanted to get her back to the cottage so she could get into some dry clothes. As her heartbeat slowed to a more normal pace, he said, “I’ll clean the fish while you get changed, okay?” She nodded quietly, a faraway look in her eyes.

They climbed out of the rowboat and walked back to the cottage in silence, Logan snagging the bucket of fish on the way inside. Rhiannon grabbed her bag and went to take a warm shower while he made good on his promise to get the fish ready for cooking. Logan could hear her muttering to herself behind the closed bathroom door. “Oh, my God!” He couldn’t help the smug grin that sprang to life on his face.

By the time she came out to the combined kitchen/living area with her damp hair in a scrunchie, Logan had put the fish on a plate, waiting to consult her on how they should be cooked. He looked up at her, and his jaw dropped. She had on hot pink flannel pajama bottoms that were clearly part of a set, but she had forgone the matching top for one of his white ‘wife beater’ tank tops. Logan smirked at her. This was probably her way of getting him back for the dunking. “Like pink, do you?”

She grinned back at him, her green eyes alight with mischief. “Oh, I love it.”

“How do you want your fish?” he asked her, trying to ignore the fact that his shirt made it quite plain what  _wasn’t_ underneath.

She shrugged. “As long as it’s edible, I don’t really care.”

“Fried it is,” he said, and bustled about the kitchen preparing their dinner. He would not allow her to help, since she was all clean from the shower, asking her to set the table and pour them some drinks instead. He also didn’t want her that close to him the way she was dressed. He intended to take things slowly with her, and that’s what he was going to do. No matter how many times it killed him.

Over the delicious fish and some wine, he finally got her to open up a bit about her work. She didn’t go into all the gory details, but gave him enough that he understood why she’d been so out of sorts the last few days. He shuddered. “And I thought I was vicious.”

She smiled around her wineglass. “Oh, trust me, Logan, you are, but it’s a different kind of vicious altogether. Yours has a purpose. You want to protect people. Innocents. Those you consider family. Those you care about.” She colored slightly at that last part. “The bastards the team and I hunt…for one reason or another, just don’t care.”

He rose from the table, intending to clear the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, but stopped in front of her. “You really think that about me?”

“Yes, of course I do, Logan,” she said, draining her glass. “I’ve been a profiler long enough, and known you long enough. Besides, I really don’t think the Professor would have kept you around if you were as big an asshole as you used to pretend to be.”

He picked up their plates and forks and carried them to the sink. As he rinsed, he laughed. “Yeah, you’re right. Chuck would’ve thrown me out on my ass.” He quickly put the dishes in the dishwasher and shut it, intending to run it later, when it had more in it.

Rhiannon got the wine from the fridge and poured herself another glass. She gestured with her hip, momentarily mesmerizing Logan. “Want another beer?” she asked him. He nodded and she grabbed one, tossing it to him. He caught it effortlessly, popping the top with an extended claw.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Now, what was this about a ‘special’ version of Twenty Questions?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he said, trying to give her a way out and not be too embarrassed.

“Ooh, is the big, bad Wolverine chickening out on me?” she teased him.

“Not on your life,” he said, gesturing with his beer bottle. “Get your wine and let’s go sit on the couch.”

She did as he asked, curling up on one end of the sofa while Logan got a fire going in the fireplace. Once he was done, he sat down on the other end, stretching out with his feet on a stool nearby. He glanced over at her. “Nuh-unh,” he said, shaking his head. He snaked out his left hand and grabbed her feet, hauling them into his lap. Her eyes went wide. “Comfy?” he asked. She took a sip of wine and nodded. “All right, Mr. Tall Dark and Scary, whattya got?”

“I’ll go light on you at first before we get into the heavy stuff,” he grinned at her.

“What heavy stuff?” she asked with a glare.

“You’ll see,” he said, his grin turning infuriating. “I’ll go first. I’ll ask the first question, but you have to answer it. Then I do. Then you get to ask me one. And no BS answers. Let’s be completely honest here.”

“OK, doesn’t sound too bad,” she said, her gaze on the fire.

Logan cleared his throat. “Describe yourself in three words.”

Rhiannon rolled her eyes. “Could you have asked anything more difficult? No, don’t answer that. It was rhetorical. This is you I’m talking to. Of course you could have. Okay, let me see. I think we can both agree that I’m stubborn as hell.” Logan silently saluted her with his beer bottle. “Shy. Definitely shy.”

“Not around me you’re not,” Logan argued.

“Yeah, well, I’ve known you  _how_ long? Almost all my life. Now hush and let me think.” She took another sip of wine as she pondered. “Hotheaded. Yeah…I’ve got a bad temper. But in my defense, I think I picked some of that up from you,” she smirked at him. “Your turn. Three words about Logan.”

“I can be a mean son of a bitch when pushed,” he said, and she nodded in agreement. “But if you’re someone I care about there is  _nothing_ I wouldn’t do for you,” he said. She smiled. “The single word you’re looking for there is loyal.” He just grunted. “Violent. Yeah, that’s a good word to describe me. Your turn to pick one,” he said, taking a drink.

“Yes, well, as I said earlier, your violence has a purpose. Okay we described ourselves, now let’s describe each other. Three words about Logan from my perspective. Hmmm… yes, you were right earlier.”

“About what?”

“I do think you’re handsome,” she grinned. “Fearless. I’ve seen you willingly walk into situations no sane person would dare go anywhere near. But that’s all part of your loyalty to those you care about. And aggravating. As hell.”

“How so?” he demanded.

She groaned and rolled her eyes. “ _Logan_ . You threw me into the lake as an excuse to kiss me.”

“Yeah, so? It worked, didn’t it?” he replied, raising an eyebrow. She flushed, despite the warmth in the room, and he noticed it.

She sighed. “If you wanted to kiss me, all you had to do was ask.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to kick herself. She’d always wanted to be completely honest with Logan, but she felt a hot blush stain her cheeks. Maybe that was too much honesty too soon. Oh well. Cat was out of the bag now. Maybe she needed to put down the wineglass. Then again, maybe not. She knew she’d never be this honest with him without it, and there was no one else she could completely cut loose with the way she could with him.

Logan just raised an eyebrow. “Really? I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” She growled and ineffectually shoved at his chest with her foot. “Just shut up and take your turn.”

He laughed. “You are determined. You blew through college in three years in order to take that guy from the FBI up on his job offer.”

“Well, I had a good reason for that. Positions in the Behavioral Analysis Unit aren’t that easy to come by. They’re like gold. So what else?”

“Caring. You have a heart the size of the mansion. I’m not the easiest person to get to know or get along with, but somehow you saw that I needed a friend, someone outside the X-Men.”

She laughed. “You mean when I wasn’t following you around like a lost little puppy dog?”

Suddenly her feet fell out of his lap as he stood up. “Come here.”

“What?” she asked even as she rose to her feet, wineglass in hand. He took the glass from her, set it down next to his beer bottle on the end table nearest him, then pulled her to him. “Come sit with me. You need to warm up some,” he said, then sat back down and pulled her upper body into his lap. Yanking the blanket off the back of the couch, he spread it out over her legs and feet. He wrapped one arm comfortably around her. She mentally shrugged and snuggled closer to him. This was the perfect time to reveal something he’d never known. “You know, I got made fun of horribly for that.”

“What, befriending a grumpy old man?” Logan asked.

“No, following you around like a lost puppy. Most of my classmates mocked me for my crush on you,” she replied, her voice indicating she was lost in the memory.

“Yeah, I know. Trust me, we noticed. You think a bunch of barely trained children are going to be able to hide that crap from the likes of Jean and the Professor? And I heard you crying in your room. Every time,” he growled softly, lost himself in memories. “Charles, Jean, Storm, Scott and I all had a nice little chat with certain kids’ parents. Why do you think so many of them didn’t come back after that one summer break?” He cleared his throat. “Now, I believe I have one more word.”

“What’s that?” she asked, glancing up at him.

He smiled, and she could see his hazel eyes bright with  _something_ in the light of the fire. “Beautiful.” Before she could have a chance to react negatively, he plunged in with another question. “If you had a warning label, what would it say?”

“Mmmm, that’s an easy one. Fragile: Handle with care. Your turn, although I bet I can guess.”

“Go ahead, Miss Profiler,” he said, enjoying the fact that she was comfortable enough around him to snuggle with him the way she was. The Wolverine in him growled contentedly at her closeness.

A smile curved her lips. “Highly explosive.”

He laughed. “Yep, that’s me all right. Your turn. Can you think of one?”

“Yeah, actually, it’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. Are you any good at pool?”

“Yeah, want me to teach you sometime?” he asked, hoping she’d give him a reason to spend more time with her.

“I’d love it, Logan.”

“I think there’s a table in the game room at the mansion. If not, I’ll talk to the Professor about getting one.”

She would have protested that he didn’t have to do that just for her, but she knew a losing battle when she saw one.

Logan picked up the pace a little with his next question. “Bath or shower?”

Rhiannon had reached around to grab her glass and had just taken a sip of wine when he said that. She nearly choked. “ _Logan_ !”

“What? I’m honestly curious.”

She snorted. “You know what curiosity did to the cat, right?”

“Well it’s a good thing I’m not a cat then, huh? Now come on, darlin’ ‘fess up.”

“It depends on my mood really, that and my schedule. Sometimes I like to soak in the tub, especially if it’s been a really bad day, you know? But if I’m in a rush, a quick shower works. What about you?”

“Shower, but if I had someone to share a tub with…” his voice trailed off and then he laughed when she punched him on the arm.

“Okay smartass, let’s try a deep one. Someone you love deeply is brutally murdered, and you know the identity of the murderer, who is unfortunately acquitted of the crime. Would you seek revenge?”

He laced his fingers through hers with the hand that lay across her body. “I think you know the answer to that one,” he growled softly. “What about you?”

She smiled in the firelit darkness. “Damn skippy I would. And anyone that got in my way would be dead.”

“What is your favorite scent?” Logan asked, trying to lighten things up a bit.

“Roses, and,” she paused, not sure if she should say what else she’s really thinking. “What else?” Logan asked. “Leather, because it reminds me of you,” she replied. “You?”

“Rain. Everything always smells so fresh and clean,” he said.

“I bet it’s easier for you to pick up things too, isn’t it?” she asked, tapping his nose playfully.

“Yep. Your turn.”

“If you had to spend the next two years inside a small but fully provisioned shelter with one other person, who would you pick to have with you? I would pick you, Logan, because you just… _get_ me…in a way no one else does. Who would you pick?” she asked him. A few years ago, she would have been afraid of his answer, due to his feelings for Jean, but after Jean and Scott got married, Logan finally accepted that some things were not meant to be and decided to move on. She got butterflies in her stomach wondering if he had decided to move on with her. Had that been what prompted his flirty behavior today?

“I’d pick you, too, Princess,” he replied, “and for pretty much the same reason. Now…if you wanted to look very sexy, how would you dress?”

She resisted the urge to ask who she was dressing up for, and replied, “Red dress, because it’s always been my best color.” Beneath her head, she both felt and heard Logan growl. “Skirt on that dress better not be too short.” Not even lifting her head, she asked, “Why not?” “Because then I’d have to kill anyone who looked at you.”

Rhiannon grinned with the thought of her next question. “If you were to get a tattoo, what would it be and where would you put it?”

“Well, darlin’ you know I heal too fast for that. What about you? Any ink aspirations?”

“Actually, yes.” “Oh?” Logan’s voice rose in interest. She gazed at their entwined hands, and said, “Your name, done in a fancy calligraphy style script, but the letter ‘o’ replaced by the X-Men logo, you know, the one on everyone’s uniforms?” “Yeah,” his voice rumbled under her ear. “That sounds awesome,” Logan said, humbled that of anything she could get, she would get  _his_ name. “Where would you put it?” She held up her left arm and gestured to her forearm. He stroked the soft skin. “Here?” “Yeah,” she replied. “Where everyone could see it.” She could hear the male pride in his voice. That settled it for her. Someday soon, she was going to get that very tattoo. Logan eerily seemed to hear her thoughts, because he said, “If you ever decide you want to get that, or anything, let me know, and I’ll take you to get it.” 

“What makes your heart beat fast?” Logan asked her, and she could hear the smirk in his voice.

She snorted. “Well… _duh._ If you don’t know by now, I’m not going to tell you.” He laughed. She smacked him. “Hey, don’t laugh at me, or I’ll ask a mean one next.”

“Like what?”

“Of all the people close to you, whose death would you find most disturbing? For me, that would, hands down, without a doubt, be yours. I mean, hell, Logan, you’re practically indestructible and immortal.” A lump formed in her throat at the mere thought of losing Logan. As a profiler she had a very good imagination, and the thought of Logan not being there anymore made her cold inside. She shivered.

“Well, I’ve lost a lot of people in my life. I mean we thought we lost Jean, Scott and the Professor. But it’s like you said. We get each other in ways other people don’t.” Unconsciously, his hold on her tightened. She rubbed his arm soothingly. “Yeah, a couple of loners who found a home at Mutant High.”

Logan lifted her off his lap long enough to grab another beer. “You want anything?” She shook her head. “Why don’t you ask another one?”

“But it’s your turn, Logan.”

“I know, but I have a doozy planned for you here in a minute,” he said grinning unrepentantly around the mouth of his beer.

“Okay,” she grumbled. She thought a moment then cocked an eyebrow at him. “For one million dollars, would you be willing to never again see or talk to your best friend?” They shared a look over the back of the couch and simultaneously snapped, “Hell no,” which made them both laugh.

Rhiannon sat up and swung her legs off the couch. “All right, Logan, what’s this doozy of a finale question you have for me?”

He sat down next to her and pulled her close to him, so he could look into her eyes. Hands on her shoulders, he asked, “If you could script the basic plot for the dream you will have tonight, what would the story be?”

She squirmed and hissed at him. “ _Logan!_ ”

“What?” he asked, his tone reeking of false innocence. “We did promise to be honest with each other, remember? Are  _you_ chickening out on me?”

“No, but I don’t think you realize what you’re asking me here,” she said, jumping up off the couch to pace nervously. She never heard Logan mumble under his breath, “Oh I know  _exactly_ what I’m asking.” Finally she spun around and, not realizing he had gotten up and approached her, collided with the solid wall of muscle and adamantium that was Logan. She looked up at him and whispered, “You, Logan. If I could dream of anything tonight, I’d dream of you.”

That was all he needed to hear. He snatched her into his arms and kissed her. His kiss earlier was soft and gentle. Not that he didn’t want to be gentle with her still, but something in her voice called out to the animalistic side in him. One hand threaded into her hair and cradled her head. The other arm wrapped around her body to hold her as close as he could possibly get her. His mind spun as the scent of her drove him wild. Was he in love with Rhiannon? He was certainly possessive of her all of a sudden. Twice tonight she’d unintentionally stroked his ego, and truth be told, fired up his lust, with her blatant honesty about the ink and the dream. Well, if she wanted to dream about him tonight, who was he to deny her?

Rhiannon wished for just one moment she was a telepath like Jean and Charles. She’d love to know what Logan was thinking, yet, even with this heated exchange, she was still too chicken to ask him out loud. Logan half carried her to where her backpack lay on the counter and loosened his arm from around her to root around inside. He pulled out her phone, laid it on the counter, opened the music player and absently played a song at random. Wrapping his arms tightly around her, he pleaded raggedly, “Dance with me,” as Eric Carmen’s ‘Hungry Eyes’ from the  _Dirty Dancing_ soundtrack began to play. She shivered in his arms at the thought of dancing with  _him_ to  _that._ But she knew she could never say no to Logan. Ever. Looking up at him, she nodded mutely into his eyes that had gone dark with  _something_ . Love? Lust? Both? She wasn’t sure, and frankly, didn’t care. That look was aimed at  _her_ and at that moment, that was all she really gave a damn about.

It was quickly apparent to her that Logan had seen the movie more than once, because he was an excellent dancer, and he guided her through the proper moves, so that if she squinted, she could believe he was Johnny and she was Baby. Even the fact that she was wearing flannel pajamas did nothing to detract from the pure heat of the moment. It wasn’t the fire at their backs. It wasn’t what they were or weren’t wearing. It was just Logan. He dipped his head to kiss her again, and this time her knees nearly buckled when his tongue touched her lips. A low growl issued from Logan’s throat, and that was all  _she_ needed to hear. She slowly opened her mouth beneath his, and when he tasted her, Logan swept her up in his arms and laid her down on the couch. He leaned over her and stroked her face tenderly. “My beautiful Princess,” he whispered huskily, and took her mouth again. Her senses were on fire. She felt Logan’s hands everywhere. She could smell and taste the beer he’d been drinking. And just the taste of  _him_ made her dizzy. A small corner of her mind wondered if he made her feel like this, what must it be like for him, with all of his senses so enhanced as they were? A smile teased her lips when she thought that the poor man must be nearly drunk with it all. He sat up and pulled her into his lap, both of them breathing heavily. “What are you smiling at?” he asked. She laughed. “Oh, I was just thinking how you were driving my senses crazy, and if it was like that for me, how much worse was it for you?” “Torture,” he grinned back at her.

He picked her up and carried her to the room she’d chosen for herself, snagging her phone and bag on the way. Dropping them into a chair in the corner of the room, he carried her to her bed, and tucked her in. He kissed her softly yet no less heatedly than before and smiled at her. “Sweet dreams, Princess.” He stood there for a few moments, watching as she curled contentedly on her side. “G’night, Logan,” she said softly.

Logan walked over, removed her things from the chair and sat down, having to concentrate on getting his breathing under control. He hadn’t been joking when he’d said the assault on his heightened senses had been torture. Plus the Wolverine in him had been growling and snarling at him about the proximity of his mate. That was partially why he’d pulled away from her when he had. He’d also told his animalistic side to go fuck itself. He was not going to attack her like an animal. Even if his animal side was right and she was his mate, his other half, soulmate, whatever name you wanted to put to it…she deserved better than being treated like a two-bit whore, especially for what he was fairly certain was her first time.

Feeling this way about her, or any woman, was new to him. After he’d come to on Three Mile Island with no memory of who he was or how he got there, he’d begun a somewhat nomadic life. He had been content with that, hanging around truck stops and bars, letting the Wolverine out in cage matches, hiring himself out as a wilderness guide and tracker, anything that fit within his new drifter lifestyle. Even women came and went, and he forgot their names almost as soon as he’d learned them. Until it seemed fate conspired against him when he met Rogue in one of those seedy truckstop bars where he’d been doing a cage match. Like a domino effect, he met Rogue, then Scott and Storm found them, took them back to the mansion, he met Jean and the Professor. Fell in love albeit one-sidedly with Jean for a number of years, and still managed to find a home at the Xavier School for the Gifted. He’d still been a bit of a loner for a while, but as he’d discovered that he could let his guard down and let his new friends become family, he’d become less and less of a loner. Each of them in their own way contributed to that, but now that he thought about it, the final nail in that coffin was laid home the day he met a young girl wandering lost around the mansion.

_He was heading to the kitchen for a late lunch when he heard it. The distinctive sound of a child crying. Not that that in itself was an unusual sound in a school this large, but he’d heard enough kids crying in his time here he could tell what type of crying this was. The girl was frightened. Not to mention he could smell it. Logan walked quickly toward the source of the sound, and found a small girl with black hair curled up into a ball in the open space beneath the stairs. He bent down so he would not be so potentially frightening to her, and softly called out to her. “Hey, you okay, kid?”_

_Her head rose at his question, and her green eyes were bright with tears. She sniffled. “Not really. I’m lost.”_

_His eyes widened upon hearing that. “Didn’t anybody give you a map to this place or show you around? You’re new aren’t you?” Inwardly he growled. That wasn’t like the Professor or the others, to leave a new student to flounder on their own. He was going to have to mention this at the staff meeting later._

_She frowned. “No, no one gave me a map or showed me where anything is except my room, and I know where my mother’s office is.”_

_“Oh, so your mom’s the Professor’s new assistant. I met her the other day. Nice lady,” he said smiling at her. She smiled back nervously. “Yeah, she is.”_

_“Well, how about I give you the grand tour. My name’s Logan. What’s yours?”_

_“Rhiannon,” she said, smiling shyly at him. “Your name sounds familiar.” She dug around in her backpack for a moment, and pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper. “You’re my history teacher,” she said, showing him her class schedule._

_“I guess I am,” he grinned at her. “I’m also your fitness instructor,” he told her. “Let’s see, you have the Professor for English and handwriting skills, Dr. McCoy for science and Ms. Monroe for math.”_

_He handed her back her schedule and she put it back in her bag. “What do you say we start that tour?”_

_“Sure,” she said, crawling out of her hiding place. Logan followed somewhat awkwardly, then held out his hand. Shouldering her backpack, she placed her small hand trustingly in his much larger one. “Where are we going first?”_

_He winked at her. “The kitchen. I haven’t had lunch yet and I was going to raid the fridge. Want to join me?”_

_“Okay.”_

_He led her to the kitchen and fixed them both sandwiches. While they ate, he gently prodded her for information on who she was and why she was here. It was so not like any of his fellow instructors or the Professor to have left a child to fend for themselves. It deeply disturbed him that this had happened to Rhiannon._

_Totally oblivious to his inner turmoil as only a child could be, Rhiannon happily chattered away at him. “Well, you already know my mom is Professor Xavier’s new assistant. I’m here because when the Professor offered her the job, she wanted it but couldn’t take it because she wouldn’t have had a sitter for me after school. So the Professor suggested she put me in school here, that way she wouldn’t have to worry about me. In fact both mom and I live here now. And the Professor said I can stop by her office any time I want, as long as I don’t bother her.”_

_After they’d eaten Logan had taken her on the promised tour. He showed her the formal dining room where the students and teachers usually ate together, where all her classrooms would be, the gym where she would meet him for phys ed, then he took her outside for a tour of the grounds. He showed her the basketball court, the swimming pool, the boathouse on the lake – the lake and pool making her groan. “What’s the matter, kid?” he asked._

_“I guess somebody better add swimming to my class list,” she said._

_“Can’t swim, eh?”_

_“No, I’ve never had a reason to learn,” she replied with a small shudder as she gazed out at the lake._

_“I’ll mention it to the Professor,” he promised. He’d also ask Charles to let him be the one to do it. He sensed an underlying fear of water in her, and if anybody had a fear of water, it was him. The adamantium on his bones made him less buoyant in water and thus, made it harder for him to swim. The pool and lake here weren’t too bad, but get him near the ocean and it was a whole other ballgame. The only thing that would get him in the ocean freely was a life or death matter._

_As they headed back inside, they crossed the basketball court. This reminded Logan of something very important that Rhiannon should know. “Rhiannon,” he said very seriously, stopping to stoop down to her level and look her in the eyes. “Yeah, Logan, what is it?” Even at her age she could tell he was dead serious. He called her Rhiannon, where every other time that day that he’d addressed her, he’d called her ‘kid’. She paid close attention. “If you’re ever out here playing and you hear really loud alarms go off, you run like hell for the grass, you hear?” “Okay, sure, Logan, but why?” “Because it means the Blackbird is about to take off.” He tapped the concrete of the court with his foot. “The basketball court opens up to allow the Blackbird to fly.”_

_“The Blackbird?” she asked, curiosity alive in her voice._

_Grinning, he took her hand and led her back into the mansion, into an elevator, and down to the hangar. Her mouth had dropped open with awe as she stepped towards the majestic black aircraft. It was love at first sight. “Wow…do you think I could fly her someday?” she asked with wonder._

_Logan wasn’t quite sure how to answer that one. The Blackbird was the X-Men’s primary aircraft, and only the X-Men flew her. He had no idea if this girl had mutant abilities yet or if she would master them enough to make the team. He shrugged. “Maybe. But you’d better ask the Professor that one.” He held his hand out once more, and she placed her hand in his. He led her to the room he used for teaching history and helped her get settled in._

And so had begun a lasting friendship for both of them. As she had grown, they discovered she was not a mutant, but an ordinary human. It didn’t bother any of the X-Men, but once word got out, as it always did in situations like that, some of the mutant students mocked and made fun of her. Logan watched her reactions to it all. At first he or one of the other instructors took the offending students to task, but as she grew in both confidence and physical abilities (notably the fitness and self-defense taught to her by Logan himself) she was able to defend herself. And he had taught her to swim, difficult as it was for him. After some of the mutant children had turned to bullying her for her humanity, he had enlisted Scott and Jean to help teach her water survival skills in case anyone thought of tossing her in the lake and calling it a prank. Since some of the students had telepathic abilities, he had asked the Professor if there wasn’t some sort of training she could have that would protect her from any sort of mental bullying, if anyone thought of that. Charles had said there was. Telepathic resistance training, normally given to older students to resist interrogation, but once Logan had mentioned the possibility, Charles and Jean instructed her personally. Since she was fully human and not a telepath there was the potential for it to not be as successful as the training Jean had received in that area as a younger mutant, but it would let Rhiannon know if a telepath was poking around in her head. At the very least she would be able to sense a presence in her mind and alert Jean or the Professor. She would not be able to know who it was unless the telepath wanted her to, but her teachers were always open and honest with her in that regard.

Not to say that her life at the school was a hardship either. She wasn’t constantly bullied by the mutant student body, but there were some, here and there. The adult mutants knew best of all how it felt to be treated badly just because you were different, and they made sure Rhiannon felt at home at the mansion and with them.

Now Logan’s thoughts had come full circle. He lifted his head to gaze at her sleeping form. Today had been a day full of revelations, for both of them. Yes, the Professor and Sorcha had told him that Rhiannon loved him, and not that he didn’t believe them, but it was something entirely different to see it reflected in her actions and speech. She was damned adorable when she blushed. But embarrassed or not she had answered his questions honestly, which only served to prove to him what Charles and her mother had said. Now he just needed to make his own words and actions match hers, and show her how much he loved her.

With a frown he started by leaving her room and taking a cold shower. The images some of their earlier words provoked in his mind needed an icy drowning before they caused him to do something he’d regret. The Wolverine in him whined while he took a shower. He chuckled a bit darkly as he quickly washed. “Take it easy, boy. She loves us. To borrow a phrase from that damned Cajun, if we play our cards right, soon, there’ll be no need for regret.” His animal side perked up at that.

Logan climbed into bed happy as the proverbial clam. He’d eaten a great fish dinner. Gotten a lot of necessary information from Rhiannon and had a lot of fun doing it, too. And then to top it all off, he’d danced with  _and_ made out with his girl. And the Wolverine in him had been placated with promises that she  _would_ be his soon. She would be. Hell she  _was_ his girl. She just didn’t know it yet. Logan fell asleep with a smug grin on his face. 


	5. Midnight Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan and Rhiannon wake in the middle of the night and truths are exposed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chap is so short compared to the last one but it didn't really fit at the end of the last one, nor does it fit at what will be the beginning of the next one. I decided to post this because I have been stuck on an important part of what's coming up. I *know* what I want to write...just haven't had the time and quiet in order to write what I want. It's coming along but slower than I would like. Hopefully I should be able to post more in a day or two.

Rhiannon awoke in the middle of the night to the sounds of pained cries and Logan growling. She combat rolled out of bed and dove for her bag. Had someone broken into the cottage? Had they somehow gotten the drop on Logan? Well if that was true, whoever it was was going to regret it.

She pulled out her Colt and checked to make sure it was loaded. She put a round in the chamber and crept from her room. She swept through the outer area first, making sure it was clear. Then she realized the racket was coming from Logan’s room. She swept into the room to find no one but Logan there. She checked in his bathroom just to make sure that no one was potentially hiding in there. Maybe she was being paranoid, but she was an FBI profiler with an overactive imagination. Finding it all clear, she laid her gun down on the bathroom counter. She’d unload the live round in it later, when it wouldn’t scare the shit out of Logan. From the sounds of it, she realized now he was probably having one of his nightmares and the last thing she needed to do was fire a handgun.

Padding back out to where Logan slept fitfully, she watched in horrified awe as he cried out her name and his claws unsheathed. She was trying to figure out what to do to get around those nasty foot long claws of his. She remembered well what had happened when Rogue had done this very thing one night, checking on a disturbed Logan because she cared. The southern belle had gotten three of those claws in her shoulder, and unlike Rogue, Rhiannon was not able to ‘borrow’ Logan’s healing ability.

“Logan,” she called nervously. No response other than grunts and growls, as if he was fighting someone in his dream. She huffed. Well there was no other choice. She reached out and tentatively shook his shoulder, calling his name a bit louder, hoping to wake him up. “ _Logan! Wake up!”_ With one last pained cry of her name, he shot bolt upright in bed and his lethal adamantium claws gleamed in the moonlight shining through the window. He looked around, and as she scurried into the bathroom doorway, she could see his eyes were unfocused. Her hand, hidden by the wall, wrapped around the butt of the Colt. God, she didn’t want to shoot Logan, but if he came after her with his claws out…

He sniffed the air once, then twice and seemed to come to himself. “Rhiannon?” What are you doing in here?” he asked, rising from the bed and walking towards her, his claws disappearing as he moved.

“You were having one of your nightmares, only…you called out my name twice,” she said softly, letting go of her gun and stepping towards him and wrapping her arms around him.

He heard the  _thunk_ of the Colt onto the counter and frowned. “You brought your gun?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m a cop, Logan, it’s habit. Besides, I figured it didn’t hurt in case some anti-mutant dumbass crossed our path. Now, don’t change the subject. What were you dreaming about?” she asked, taking a moment to safely unload the weapon now that he was awake and aware.

“You were taken,” he murmured softly, pulling her with him back to his bed. “Somebody stole you from me, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t get you back.” His voice broke and uncharacteristically, he sounded as though he were going to cry.

She coaxed him into bed. “Well, as you can see Logan, that was a product of your imagination. Maybe a few of those questions weren’t such a good idea after all.”

He smiled tiredly at her. “No, they were great. We were honest with each other, and that’s what most important in a relationship.”

“Relationship? What relationship?” she asked, her mind spinning at the strange direction this conversation had taken.

“The one we’re going to have,” he murmured, pulling her down onto the bed beside him.

Her heart hammered in her chest.  _What…the…FUCK…was going on here_ ? She knew that Logan’s healing factor did not allow him to get full-on insensibly drunk, so it wasn’t any booze doing the talking for him. “You always get what you want, do you, handsome?” she asked, playing along.

“Yep,” he grinned at her.

“You didn’t get Aunt Jean,” she reminded him softly.

“She wasn’t my mate. You are,” he replied simply, then pulled her on top of him and claimed her mouth with his. There was nothing but a sheet and her clothes in between them. Her brain short-circuited at the feel of his hard body beneath hers. He smelled clean, as if he’d taken a shower before bed. As his tongue danced in an erotic parallel to the moves they’d shared earlier, she tasted beer again. Normally she didn’t care for beer, but for Logan she might make an exception, she thought dizzily as he groaned and rolled her over so she was beneath him, the sheet tangling between their bodies. “Angeline,” he moaned.

Her eyes flew open. “What?”

He laughed at her outraged tone. “Relax, Princess. Angeline is what you are. A female wolverine. My mate.  _The Wolverine’s mate_ .”

“Mate, huh? Even though we haven’t…”

“Soulmate, then, if you want another word. I don’t care what you call it. You’re  _mine_ , Rhiannon,” he growled. “ _And I don’t intend to let you go_ .”

She smiled and reached up to caress his beard-roughened cheek. “That goes both ways, you know,  _Wolverine_ ,” she said, her eyes sparkling.

“Stay with me,” he pleaded, rolling off of her and gesturing for her to get out of bed as well. He fixed the sheet and she crawled inside, rolled onto her side and watched, admiring the delicious view, as he walked over to the dresser where, presumably he kept some clothes.

“What are you doing, Logan?” The answer became apparent as he pulled out a pair of boxer shorts and slipped them on. Then he turned towards her. She held out her arms to him. “You didn’t have to do that you know,” she told him as he lay beside her.

“I don’t want to upset you,” he replied kissing her softly.

“Logan, if that’s how you sleep, that’s how I want you to sleep. I don’t want you to alter your routine because of me. Although it’s very sweet of you to offer,” she said, kissing his cheek. Besides,” she grinned, “my mother told me long ago never to try and change a man because it wouldn’t work.”  _Who said anything about a naked Logan being upsetting?_ she thought to herself with an inner smirk.

“Well, your mother was wrong on this count. You’ve changed me in ways even I don’t fully understand.” She knew a Logan story when she heard one so she curled up next to him in the crook of his arm, her head on his chest. “When I first came to the mansion I was still very much a loner. Marie and Jean were able to draw me out a little, but it wasn’t until I found you hiding under the stairs on your first day of class that I found my purpose, only I didn’t realize it till now.”

“Oh, and what was that purpose?” she asked, twining her fingers in his chest hair.

“You.”

“Oh, Logan…” she whispered, moved by his words.

His arms tightened around her. “I can’t remember if I’ve ever been in love before, but I know I am now. I love you, Rhiannon.”

A lump formed in her throat at hearing him say that. Words she had waited nearly her entire life to hear, but never thought she would. Tears in her eyes, she whispered, “I love you too, Logan.”

**Author's Note:**

> The overall title for the story came from a phrase in the INXS song, "Never Tear Us Apart".


End file.
